


a bundle of chaos

by griffins



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, except bellamy and clarke, its a drabble, soft romance, the death of everyone basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffins/pseuds/griffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>because the end of the world, they're all they have</p>
            </blockquote>





	a bundle of chaos

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading (posted on tumblr too)

**at the end of the world, they’re all they have**

 

 

Blood was everywhere.

It seemed as if everything was just a repeat of its own history. First, a minor disagreement and a few raw threats. Then a ruling, some sort of declaration on someone or something, and in this case, this was on an invention. Something that could’ve killed everyone on the entire planet almost 98 years ago. Did they come back to earth to just spark a significant moment that almost resulted to the extinction of mankind? _No_ , no, this wasn’t going to happen again.

The Sky people did not wait 97 years to just be executed by the hands of nuclear destructions again.

But this time there were no sign-holders, no anarchies and no damn warning to even justify the happening. It was all so sudden. She had watched everyone die around her and this time, although this wasn’t her fault, it was on her hands. Because why the hell - out of all people - was she still alive? She watched all her friends die. She caught a glimpse of Octavia crouching over Lincoln’s dead body, because unfortunately he was caught in the crossfire.

Octavia’s throat had been slit by the hands of Grounder, because what’s worse than being destroyed by a nuclear weapon - betrayal on your last breath. She wanted to go and save her but her feet were trapped into the soils of the Earth, and oh, she wished that she didn’t feel it.

Jasper and Monty attempted to get out of the chaos, but had stepped right in the direction of a missile, and boom, she was sure that their bodies had disintegrated into the ground. Raven was incapable of saving herself because Wick was nowhere to be seen and she was too busy calling out his name that she didn’t even have time to run from the acid fog that rose from Mount Weather, and hell they were sure that they had gotten rid of that. And pretty soon, Clarke stood on a slope, just inches away from a ditch she could easily bury herself in, bodies piled up and a question still imprinted in her head.

Was she dead? Did she survive this? Because she was sure that anything was better than this. Whispers and taunts circulated her head, her vision becoming blurry as tears just continued to trickle down her cheeks.

_This is all your fault._

_You could’ve saved them._

_Why didn’t you save them?_

_It’s all your fault._

"I - I can’t," her throat felt cemented and all the oxygen couldn’t get through because why did she deserve to live? She ran a hand through her hair, wondering what she going to do now that there was no one left. She was all alone. "I can’t breathe." She couldn’t take the process of understanding the situation because in one moment, she was drinking moonshine by a campfire, next she was training for a war that she was bound to lose.

She heard a sudden yell, which erupted just behind the trees, causing her jump abruptly. She was going to pray to whoever was there in the colossal sky, for that hope, but she jumped to conclusions quite suddenly. A reaper, out of all people, (or whatever that was) had been the only living thing in this area. The reaper paced towards her with an axe, and improbably, Clarke wasn’t so afraid of death.

The axe flipped in his hand and his arm swung, smacking against the temple of her head. Her head thumped with a jarring sound and her consciousness was inevitably fading, but in the slight regain of her eyesight, she saw her life flash before her eyes. The reaper’s head raised, gradually, and she was waiting for the slash of her neck, or her head or anywhere that inflicted such numbing pain.

The long screeching sound she had longed to hear blared though her ears, blood splattering across her face from the now deceased body beside her. Someone shot him. She heard someone stepping over dried leaves and pacing towards her body, and unfortunately, her consciousness was fading into obscurity too quickly. Hands scooped her body off the dirty ground, placing her on a more complacent surface that helped regain her consciousness. She attempted to touch the person saving her because this was her light, this was her chance to survive.

"Clarke," a deep voice resounded the area because that voice was too powerful, too damn familiar to even leave her ears. His voice was scratchy, as if he had been crying for the past hour, and his hands were warm and contrasted with her cold skin.

"Bellamy." she groaned at the irritating pain on the left side of her head, but it didn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around Bellamy’s broad shoulders, quivering against his front. She felt tears running down her cheeks because who wouldn’t cry? She found out a person that she cared for deeply was still alive and out of all the chaos, decided to play the knight in shining armour.

Her arms tightened around his shoulders and her legs were suddenly finding a place to rest on, just by his thighs. She wanted to feel him everywhere because his familiar scent, touch and breath had her praying again. He sniffed against her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her timid waist - letting her legs climb over his thighs, so her legs were wrapped around his waist as he was crouching.

"It’s okay, you’re safe," he whispered against her neck. She couldn’t find the words. Instead, she tightened her grip and made sure that she wouldn’t let go - she was never going to let go. "Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe."

Bellamy had carried her all the way to the drop ship, where she intentionally wanted to hide once the war had started. To think that she was actually going to change something by being there was just another perk about her - she jumped to conclusions and that thought being a leader would mean that she could save her people. Bellamy laid her down gently onto the cot by the table, where Raven had generally made bombs before the Ark came down, and it made them cringe. All their friends were dead, and it was weird.

"Clarke," his voice was strained, raspy and it was almost evident that he was going to cry. He brought out an empty cup and a jar of moonshine from the cabinets under the table, gently pouring it inside before nudging it towards Clarke’s lips. "You need to drink."

Bellamy seemed distressed, Clarke could see that and she wondered why he was bothering himself with her unresponsive attitude. His eyes were bloodshot red and blemishes concealed his olive tones. Only one name popped up to why he was so distraught, to why he was obviously preventing himself from crying. “Octavia." He slightly jumped at the sudden revelation, his eyes widening and his fingers loosened around the cup. Quickly, he dismissed it, gently placing the tip of the cup on her bottom lip, tilting it so she could drink.

She felt her heart pang with regret. “I’m going to go get you a blanket.”

She grabbed his wrist before he could move from his crouching position, no words said but only the impression that she was only going to need him, so he shuffled next to her and allowed her head to lean against his shoulder.

"This is the apocalypse huh?" He murmured, habitably fiddling with his fingers.

Clarke responded with a hum.

"I was supposed to protect her," his voice slightly broke. "I was supposed to protect all of them and I ran, I ran to try and find her but - but - she already arrived." A lone tear slipped down his cheek, his throat became cemented and his restraint on tears was failing quite quickly.

She tilted her head up, towards him. “Bellamy…”

"They’re all gone and we’re probably going to die of starvation," he huffed. "Funny, huh? We came down here to see if we could survive, little did we know - we walked into our own little death trap… it’s fate, isn’t it? We’re not supposed to survive, mankind died a lot time ago and we defied death … and now it’s coming back to bite us in the ass."

Clarke didn’t respond to his statement - only yawned. Fatigue had gotten the best of her and her eyes suddenly became droopy, her eyes tempting to close. Bellamy noticed this, allowing her to rest her head on his thighs because he was tired too, and they both wanted to sleep and maybe wake up to a world that had conflict and some damn people.

But oh, the permeating smell of dead people defied that.

#

She was crying.

Clarke had woken up from a dream that was too good to be true, and good meant that there were more than two people in her dream. But it was horrendous - she watched the people she loved die in the most treacherous way, but she was with Bellamy so it didn’t seem so bad to wake up with him acting all worried. His hands halted her frantic movements, one arm wrapping around her shoulder and the other just brushing against the thighs so he could cradle her like a child.

The sound of Clarke blubbering and Bellamy humming a song he heard from Mount Weather’s radio seemed to reverberate through the drop ship. His hand ran through her hair, soft and wet, but it was familiar, and that was pretty much all he needed.

"Tell me something," she managed to breathe out, "tell me something about our history and how shit it was."

"It was something," he practically stared into space, thinking about the most relatable event that could compare to this. "This isn’t really history, more like religion, an orthodox topic - a conspiracy. Religion died a long time ago but I was always fascinated by the story of Adam and Eve." Clarke snorted and it seemed to be the most human-like thing he had heard in days. "Many people believed that God created human beings to live in a Paradise on earth, although they fell away from that state and formed the present world full of suffering and injustice.”

Clarke parted her lips. “Huh, like the Ark. Except we didn’t get sent down here thinking it was a Paradise.”

"Right," he nodded. "All that happened because Eve fell to temptation. And it leads to now."

"Are you saying we’re Adam and Eve?" Clarke murmured.

"No, I don’t think you’d fall to temptation like she did." Clarke remained silent, shuffling so she could find comfort in the warmth of his arms. Soon enough, Clarke fell asleep - with Bellamy following shortly after.

#

Clarke tried to make Bellamy cry, let him pour out his emotions.

(It didn’t work, Bellamy didn’t want to seem like a coward, of course.)

He walked away to go find a blanket, in result - he seemed to smash every object in that room.

#

They were both tired but had gotten the most sleep to make up time. Clarke was unresponsive to all of Bellamy’s questions or ponders, but she had gotten up from her state and pushed the curtains aside, taking in the air. Bellamy watched Clarke as he contemplated on what he should do, because there was a lot to do in a world so big and lonely. “Clarke,” he called out, but Clarke didn’t flinch. “We should go to Mount Weather - there’s food and supplies there.”

The wind blew and caused goose bumps to appear on her skin, her eyes watering at the harshness. The sinuous wind made the trees rustle and Clarke tried to deter herself from the unpleasant smell of rotting bodies, but her nostrils flared and the urge to vomit was apparent.

She quickly walked inside and stood before Bellamy, tears slipping down her face. “I can’t feel anything.”

"Clarke. . ."

"I feel numb. Like this whole world is collapsing on me and I can’t breathe," Clarke felt her knees give in, tumbling slightly but Bellamy was fast enough to scoop her from falling onto the ground. She looked up towards him, her cerulean eyes glistening, something nudging her to do something - feel something. To his surprise, she quickly pressed her lips against his, feeling the tenderness that he held. He gently leaned back, shocked. She was sure that she had wondered on what his lips felt like. Funny, it felt like hope. “I need to feel something.”

Bellamy kissed her, and this time, it had more to it, like it was something they were both craving - solace. Clothes gently stripped off, hands brushing against each other as if they were porcelain and they were ready to break.

#

They held each other till dusk.

Because at the end of the world, they were all they had.


End file.
